The 8th Hunger Games: Eye of the Tiger - SYOT closed
by KittyMae98
Summary: This year, get ready for an arena like no other. This year, tributes will be tested more than ever before as they fight to stay alive. But with only one survivor, who will be victorious? And what is in store for them? Find out as the eighth and most deadly games yet begin.
1. The Fangirl

"This year, get ready for an arena like no other. This year, tributes will be tested more than ever before as they fight to stay alive. But with only one survivor, who will be victorious? And what is in store for them? Find out next week, as the eighth Hunger Games begin!"

17-year-old Rhoda watched the commercial, eyes shining. She'd been waiting for this moment for months; spending all her free time looking through the internet for any hints, any spoilers of what was to come. And now, finally, the time was almost here. She couldn't wait to see what the arena would be this year, which tributes would be chosen. She'd been saving up all year, in the hope that she would be able to sponsor her best tribute, help them to win.

Last year, her favourite tribute, Winona George, a district two girl, had won, the only tribute who could battle the giant spiders that had killed the other three tributes that had remained. Rhoda had watched, entranced, as Winona had run around, cutting off the spider's eight venomous legs, and dodging it's hungry mouth. The other three tributes hadn't been so lucky. The district eight boy had been impaled by one of the spider's massive fangs, while the two district four tributes had actually been eaten alive. Rhoda had felt fascinated and sick at the same time.

Now, she couldn't wait to watch more of the games. She sat through the end of the commercial, showing footage of the revolution eight years ago, and the fate of district 13, but she wasn't even paying attention now; all she wanted was to text her friends and share their excitement.

Just as she was about to turn away, though, the third part of the commercial came on.

"Now, for all the young Capitol fans, we have some exciting news. We are holding a competition to invent a brand new Mutt for the Hunger Games. Make it big, creative, unique and, most important of all - deadly. The winning idea will be used in the games, with the creator being given a tour by a Game-maker and getting the opportunity to see the actual Hunger Games studio in action. Entries must be sent in by the end of the week."

That was too much for Rhoda. She squealed so loudly that her brother banged on the wall of his room next door, and raced over to her phone, putting in her friend's number so fast that she had to type it twice. She tapped her feet impatiently as she waited for Lindy to pick up. Then:

"Have you heard, have you heard? OMG, Rhoda, this is - "

"Ican'tbelieveitthiscantberealnowaynowayIhavetowin!"

Both friends squealed again and talked over each other as they started to plan ideas. The Hunger Games were going to be just amazing.

* * *

 ** _I've read loads of SYOTs, so I thought I'd write my own. This isn't first come first serve, as I've never done an SYOT before, so I want to choose interesting_ _tributes that I can write about well. You can submit tributes by review, but I'd prefer no guest submissions, unless you've got a really good tribute. Reservations are definitely not allowed. You can submit as many tributes as you want, but I probably won't pick more than about two from one person. Tributes that are most likely to be chosen should be creative, detailed, interesting and original._**

 ** _I'll start asking for entries for Mutts when I have all the tributes. You can submit them now, but they just won't be chosen yet._**

 ** _I'll try to update about once a week, but as I've got exams at school this year, updates might be slow sometimes. I'll work on this when I can, though._**

 ** _When I have about twelve tributes, I'll start to announce the ones I've chosen on my profile._**

 ** _Anyway, here's the tribute form. Please fill everything in, the more detail the better._**

 **Name:**

 **Gender and age: (I need a lot of younger tributes too, so under-sixteens are more likely to get chosen)**

 **District: (I might change this anyway, but recommend your top few, and definitely say if they're Careers or not)**

 **Personality: (Lots of detail, not just one word answers. The same goes for back story and appearance)**

 **Back story:**

 **Appearance:**

 **Family and friends: (Names and how they get on with character)**

 **Reaped or volunteered:**

 **Reaction or reason:**

 **Do they think they'll win?**

 **Open to allies?**

 **Training score:**

 **What they show game-makers:**

 **What they do in bloodbath:**

 **How far will they come? (I may have to change this later)**

 **Skills:**

 **Strengths: (At least 3)**

 **Weaknesses: (At least 4)**

 **Fears:**

 **Strategy:**

 **Reaping and chariot outfits:**

 **Preferred death:**

 **Interview angle:**

 **Preferred weapon:**

 **Other: (optional)**


	2. The President

Ever since it had been built seven years ago, the president's office had always been admired by anyone who walked past and saw it. So it should be, too, thought President West proudly, as he stood outside for a moment, taking it in once again. It was made completely of glass, the sort that let you see out from inside but not in. From it's high position, his young son had once stated that it felt like you could see the whole of Panem.

The building was suspended some 50 metres above the rest of the buildings in the street, and with clever engineering, it had been made to seem like it was hovering in mid-air, supported by nothing. And President West liked that idea; it echoed exactly how he considered that the lesser residents of the Capitol, as well as the people of the Districts, ought to view him; completely capable, dependant on nothing and nobody.

Of course, his supporters were there, and vital, helping to hold up the kingdom; just as his prized office was in reality supported by fine and carefully placed ropes and cogs, however invisible they seemed to be. But President West liked to keep them out of sight, acting like he needed no-one, worked alone. That was the best way to show how truly capable he was.

They needed someone like him to rule them; cast iron, merciless and flawless. That had been the fault of the president ten years previously; he'd been too weak, too old. He'd let the rebellion happen. Of course, the first thing President West had done had been to have him executed. Next, he'd quashed what was left of the revolution, with the help of some extremely creative and cunning support. Such a shame that one district had been too difficult to control. In his opinion, President West could easily have brought District 13 to its knees, but honestly, it hadn't been worth the bother. West liked things he could control, things that were neat, orderly, simple. District 13 had been too messy, out of control. It would have ruined the perfection of Panem.

And when you couldn't untangle the mess, when it was too broken to be any good, thought President West, what was left to do? Simply cast the mess away, move it out of the way and pretend it didn't exist. District 13 was ruined beyond repair anyway.

The revolution had left many benefits, though; the Hunger Games had been a stroke of genius, a perfect way to show the districts how completely in control he was. There certainly wouldn't be another revolution for a long time. And his brilliant supporters, who had helped him all through the revolution, were now completely under his control. While once they'd planned ingenious ways to destroy rebels and torture the lesser people, now they used their ideas thinking of the most entertaining ways to make innocent children and teenagers suffer.

President West walked into the almost invisible glass lift and pressed the button, wondering as it shot airwards just what they'd have up their sleeves this time. It was sure to be something good; it had to be, or they were dead. President West worked alone, and as soon as people were no longer useful, they, like District 13, would be cast away, ruined. He needed no-one.

* * *

 **Anyway, I only uploaded this yesterday, but I wanted to make an update. I've had five tributes submitted so far, which is good, but I need some more. I'll announce out of the ones I've got which ones I've chosen next Sunday, as long as I have at least twelve by then. I'll probably carry on writing sneak peaks and prologues till then, if I have time.**

 **I need tributes of all ages, remember. I know I said I wanted younger ones too, but I've had a lot of 15-year-olds. That's fine, but I need characters of all ages, not just the average! The way I'm doing it is, the amount of times tribute's names are entered for reaping doesn't depend on their age yet, but on how their families acted in the rebellion. So children of rebels will be more likely to be chosen, to punish their parents, but on the other hand a twelve year old is just as likely to be chosen as an 18 year old.**

 **Another thing, all the people who submitted their characters wanted them in the top five! If everyone wants that for their tribute, I'll definitely have to kill some of them off earlier. I can't have 20 tributes in the top 5! I need a few bloodbaths too, remember.**

 **Also, I live in Scotland, so I'm probably in a completely different time zone to a lot of readers. Just be aware of that if you're waiting for an update, reply or anything... if I'm not online, it's probably the middle of the night!**

 **Oh, and can I just clarify that NO reservations are allowed. You can submit as many tributes as you like, but I won't post the tribute list till next Sunday. Keep submitting tributes, though!**


	3. The Gamemaker

"So what do you propose for this year's games?" President West asked the head game-maker, Cleo Webb. They were sitting across from each other on the two snow white sofas in his office, separated by a small table that was covered in Cleo's notes and designs.

"Well, you know the details on the arena," she said. "I think you'll agree, it's pretty unforgettable this year."

"I'm sure it is," President West agreed sleekly. Cleo had been loyal to him for years; it was her creativity and inginuity that had helped win the revolution. Still, he'd never allow himself to fully trust anyone.

"What I'm wondering about, though," he said casually, "Is this competition you're holding. To create a new type of Mutt, if I'm correct?"

"Yes." Cleo nodded, anxiously. "And the winner gets a tour round the studio to meet the game-makers and see how the games work."

"And what is the point of this?" West asked.

"Well, I was thinking," said Cleo. "The Games are becoming really popular with the Capitol audience, especially younger viewers. Last year, in particular, was a hit with everyone. But I want to convince the people of the Capitol completely that this is the thing to do; that the Hunger Games are the best solution."

"I'm sure most people are already sufficiently convinced," said President West, slightly annoyed that she could so easily challenge his kingdom.

"I know, but there's always going to be a seed of doubt, isn't there? And we don't want any risk or the Capitol disagreeing. They, at least, must be completely convinced. So the plan is, get the supporters when they're young and impressionable. In this competition we can hand-pick those who will be most... useful. And if we can get them on our side, completely I mean, then we already have the next generation of game-makers. I'm sure you'll agree that this is the best way; getting them at a young age."

"You could be right," muttered West. "But how can we be sure?"

"Well," Cleo hesitated, her eyes glinting. "I've been working on a special new invention for a while now. You remember the district eight girl last year?"

"The one who had a complete personality change halfway through?" West was grinning now; he was starting to see Cleo's plan. "That thirteen year old little darling that suddenly turned from a selfless little sweetie to a monstrous killing machine? Murdered all her allies in their sleep, if I recall, and worse... Oh, yes, Cleopatra. I remember."

"I think you know what I'm talking about, then," Cleo smiled. "And thanks to that "sweet, innocent girl", I now have my new little invention perfectly tested and ready for use. Just the thing to really get the people of the Capitol thinking our way."


	4. The Mentors

Ray White, victor of the 6th Hunger Games, was late. He'd reluctantly arranged to meet up with Winona George to discuss the next Games, but in all honesty, he could think of about a thousand better things to do. After winning the Hunger Games two years previously, he'd hoped that he could retreat back into the peaceful life of District 6, able to finally put everything behind him. If he had the choice, he often felt like he'd just put it all out of his mind, pretend it had never happened.

It had, though; and there was no way he could forget it. Not with his new house in the Victor's Village, where only his family lived. Not with the Capitol broadcasting the footage of his victory every year, showing the world how he'd brutally killed the boys from districts 1 and 10. The district 10 boy had only been twelve; he'd trusted Ray, been his ally. He never would have hurt anyone. And yet in the end, when there were only three tributes left, Ray had killed him just as brutally as any other tribute. He'd had to, to win.

And now the Capitol would force him to remember, year after year. As the only district 6 victor, he'd had to mentor both tributes the year before, for the first time, only to watch them die. And he would have to do so every year, now; leave his district for the extravagance of the Capitol, meet up with the other murderers; enjoy the riches and glamour of the Capitol as he watched his tributes, the ones he'd mentored, fight to the death. Then, as he had done last year, he'd have to return to his district, watch people starve, knowing nothing would ever change; face the families of the tributes that had died, and see the blame in their eyes. He was the mentor; if their children died, they looked for someone to blame, and he was the easiest target.

It made Ray feel sick, just thinking about facing everything again. But with the reapings four days away, he had no choice. At least this year, there had been no visit from Cleo Webb and President West, no victory tour. All he'd got this year was a gold envelope, with an invitation in flowing silver handwriting to come to the Capitol and prepare for the Hunger Games. He'd been instructed to meet up with Winona George, too; fresh-faced and only just back from the victory tour, she now needed someone to teach her how to mentor her own tribute; a new Career girl, yet to be reaped. And it was Ray's job to teach her how.

Winona was luckier than him, at least. She was the second district 2 victor, after Samson Jones had won the third Hunger Games, five years earlier. Winona only had to mentor one tribute, instead of two. And most likely one with an actual chance of winning.

There was no more delaying it; President West would definitely be suspicious if Ray arrived late. Ray's father had been an enemy to the Capitol in the rebellion. Not that he'd done much, just been one of the many to charge at the peacekeepers with any weapon they could find. But West had recorded the names of everyone, and after executing them all, had remembered their families and punished them even after their parents were dead. Some rebels had survived, sure; those who had been smart, too strong, too much of a threat for West to bother killing. But he had ways of making even them behave.

Now, the children of any rebels, dead or alive, could be more than twice as likely to be reaped as anyone else. Ray didn't even know how many times his name had been in the reaping bowl, but even now that he'd won, proved that he was nothing but a brutal killer for the Capitol, President West still didn't fully trust him; Ray could tell.

The president wasn't obvious about it, preferring to be just as sickly sweet to Ray as he would be to any other victors. But there were signs; subtle, like a calculating look in his eyes sometimes, or the fact that he was always giving him little jobs, like helping Winona now. Still, Ray considered himself fairly smart at knowing what other people were thinking. And West was clearly continuously testing him, just waiting for one slip up, one small sign that Ray was not fully on the Capitol's side.

And if Ray messed up, he knew that there'd be hell to pay. Maybe not for him; unless West could find a good excuse, anyway. But Ray had family of his own to care about; his brother and sister were 13 and 16, the perfect age to be reaped. And he knew that if he did anything wrong, no matter how small, it would be them in the Hunger Games, them facing death or being formed into brutal killers. And Ray would do anything in his power to ensure that that _never_ happened.

He was only five minutes late, but still, he wasn't taking any chances. Speed was one of the skills that had kept him alive in the Games, and he used it now, running madly from his taxi to the fancy Capitol building next to the training centre that became the mentor's headquarters for the duration of the Games.

He flashed his ID at the reception and ran on past, over to the large meeting room. He could see through the door that Winona was already there, her distinctive blonde hair glinting through the glass door. Why was it that Careers always seemed to be blonde?

She'd seen him to, and turned her head lazily, without getting up from her seat. Ray walked through the door and sat opposite her awkwardly. She was still looking at him, but unsmilingly, her expression less than welcoming. Clearly, she'd been looking forward to this meeting about as much as he had.

"Hi." she said, crisply.

"Hi, Winona. Uh, thanks for coming, sorry I'm late." Ray forced a smile, trying to make at least some effort to be friendly. Winona raised her eyebrows in return.

"So," he wondered what to say. "You're going to be mentoring the district 2 female, right?"

"No, they've given me the district 12 male." Winona said, sarcastically. "What do you think? Admit it, you're just making small talk, right?"

"Right, well," Ray said, flustered. "What do you know about mentoring so far?"

"About as much as you did last year, probably." Winona was swinging her legs now, bored. Ray sighed; clearly, this wasn't going to be easy.

"Well, there's a few things I learnt last year that you really need to know. Firstly - "

"Look, you don't want to be here and I don't want to be here." Winona interrupted suddenly, scowling. "Face it, the only reason victors agree to do all this shit, preparing kids to get themselves killed and coming back to the Capitol each year and acting like we actually think what they're doing is right, is because otherwise, President West is going to get mad and slaughter everyone we care about. I don't give a damn about learning to be a mentor, and I bet you didn't either. So why don't you just cut the crap? Because I've got better things to do with my life than learning how to find the right interview angle, or the five best ways to charm sponsors."

And after that outburst, she turned away, took a small notebook out of her pocket and started doodling, like Ray wasn't there.

Ray just looked at her for a moment, speechless. She was still ignoring him, looking down at her notebook, her doodles getting faster and madder; he could hear the pen whizzing around the paper rapidly, and couldn't help wondering what she was drawing.

That, he had not been expecting. He'd assumed Winona would be a typical Career; thinking back now, though, he realised he could hardly even remember her reaping. He'd just assumed at the time that she'd have volunteered. Clearly, though, he, as well as President West, Cleo Webb and the whole of Panem, had completely misjudged Winona George.

"Okay." he said, after a moment. "I take it you had the sense to make sure we're not being recorded?"

She gave him a look.

"Okay, okay." he said. "Well, how about _you_ teach _me_ , then? Cos it sounds like you're an expert at fooling the Capitol; maybe you could give me a few tips?"

Winona smiled for the first time, and started to talk.

* * *

 **I've decided to close the male Career spots, as I think I've got enough now. Everything else is still open though, so keep submitting! Remember, the deadline is the 23rd August.**


	5. The Competition

"It's time!" Rhoda squealed. "Come on, hurry up!"

"Rhodie, it's ten minutes early." Lindy told her. "The adverts will still be on. Anyway, the popcorn's not ready yet."

"Popcorn? Seriously, Lindy, what's more important? Anyway, I wanna see the adverts too, okay? Come on!"

Lindy sighed and went to follow her over-enthusiastic friend into her room. Rhoda already had the TV on and was bouncing up and down in excitement. Honestly, sometimes Rhoda acted like she was more like seven than seventeen.

After ten minutes of adverts, with Rhoda getting more and more hyper, the announcement they'd been waiting for came on. Rhoda gave another loud squeal as Cleo Webb's face came into view.

"Now, with a day before the reapings, we can finally announce the winner of our competition. The exact entry the person sent in is being kept secret for now, but I assure you all, it will be revealed soon enough in the Games. However, I am pleased to announce that the winning entry was created by..."

"No way! Switch it off, Lindy, I can't bear to watch! OMG, OMG, no w-"

"Shush!" Lindy rolled her eyes. "I can't hear what they're saying." In truth, Lindy was almost as excited as her friend to hear who the winner is.

"I am pleased to announce that the winning entry was created by... Rhoda Martin and Lindy Gray!"

" **YEEEEESSSSSSS!"** Rhoda bounced up and down, cheering. Lindy paused for a moment, then joined in.

"I can't believe it! Oh, I wonder what it'll be like! This is so amazing!"

They were cheering so loudly that they almost didn't hear the phone ring. At the last minute, though, Lindy picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Rhoda Martin?"

"No... I'm her friend, Lindy Gray."

"Brilliant. You heard the news, I take it?"

"Oh, yes. We're so excited."

"Well, we're phoning about the competition. You see, we wanted to invite both you, and Rhoda, to come and meet the main escorts and mentors. Part of the prize is that you get to go to one of the districts to watch the reapings first hand."

"Wow, really? What district?"

"That will be revealed tomorrow. But are both of you free to come for a meeting tomorrow? You can get to know all the main people who make the Hunger Games happen."

"Yeah. Yeah, great!" she put down the phone and turned to Rhoda. "Rhodie, you won't _believe_ this!"

* * *

 **Anyway, I know this isn't the best chapter, but I was in a hurry and had no other ideas. Please keep submitting tributes, thanks for reading as always :)**


	6. Tribute List

So, here are the tributes. It was really hard to choose in the end, but I think I got a good set of tributes. Sorry if your tribute didn't get picked, I just didn't have room for everyone. If you want to know why your tribute wasn't chosen, feel free to PM me and ask, but most probably it will have been because there wasn't room for everyone.

 **District 1**

 **Female:** Allura Diamante, 17 - ChocolateChipHomicide

 **Male:** Jett Kaso, 17 - OhParadise

 **District 2**

 **Female:** Eliza Relomin, 16 - kkfanatic22

 **Male:** Liles Hadley, 15 - Marctheshark2

 **District 3**

 **Female:** Veda Calford, 14 - HogwartsDreamer113

 **Male:** Laurent Bells, 17 - OddOrb

 **District 4**

 **Female:** Caligo Conner, 14 - Mistycharming

 **Male:** Chain Platinum, 18 - cloudy5

 **District 5**

 **Female:** Click Maudlin, 15 - EverlastingImpression

 **Male:** Fletcher Reeds, 16 - Emrys Holmes

 **District 6**

 **Female:** Natalie Bowman, 15 - Emrys Holmes

 **Male:** Declan Norman, 14 - EverlastingImpression

 **District 7**

 **Female:** Peony Flonder, 14 - TheTributesWhoLived34

 **Male:** Ignatius "Igni" Blake, 15 - Wolfie McCoy

 **District 8**

 **Female:** Melody Moretti, 14 - Emrys Holmes

 **Male:** Stefan Reid, 17 - OddOrb

 **District 9**

 **Female:** Cheri Meadows, 12 - cloudy5

 **Male:** Rhine Bram, 13 - HogwartsDreamer113

 **District 10**

 **Female:** Rachel Turner, 15 - Emrys Holmes

 **Male:** Derek Halls, 17 - WizardDemigodGladerGatekeeper

 **District 11**

 **Female:** Avalon Harding, 17 - We're All Okay

 **Male:** Natch Hooks, 13 - Marctheshark2

 **District 12**

 **Female:** Cecelia Jacobs, 12 - Emrys Holmes

 **Male:** Zanthian Lithe, 17 - grimbutnotalways


	7. District 4 reapings

**Finally, an update... don't worry, I haven't given up on this or anything. I've just been really busy the past few weeks. I'm really sorry for taking so long! Just to warn you, my updates are usually very irregular; like, I'll update every day for weeks, then other times not update for ages. The story will probably progress as quickly as if I was updating regularly, though; I'm just really unpredictable like that and it also depends when I have time.**

 **Anyway, here's the first reapings! I'm starting with district 4.**

* * *

 **Caligo Connor (14)**

I woke up early. I always did, on the day of the Reaping; it was good to be prepared, whatever might happen. The Reaping started at eleven, but I wanted to get in some last minute practise; just in case.

Looking across, I saw that my sister, Misuto, was still fast asleep; she'd probably lain awake for hours last night, worrying. Last year had been her first reaping, but she'd always been scared of being reaped, even years before she'd turned twelve.

I didn't know what I'd do if that happened; even though Misuto was only a year younger than me, we couldn't be more different. She'd always been small for her age, and was never great at sticking up for herself. When we were younger, she'd been bullied a lot because of it; my brother, Carter, and I looked after her when we could, but a couple of years earlier, when I'd started middle school and she hadn't, she'd had a pretty bad time. Of course, Carter and I had sorted the bullies out later, but we couldn't do anything about it while it was happening. And that was exactly how it would be if Misuto, or anyone in my family for that matter, was reaped.

I hated that; knowing people I cared about are suffering, but not being able to do anything. That was how it had been in the first rebellion. I'd only been seven at the time, but unlike my younger siblings, I remembered exactly how everything had happened. The way the man from the Capitol had come knocking on the door; the look on his face when he'd asked to speak to Mom. My brother had only been nine at the time, but I think he'd known exactly what was going on, why the Capitol man was there. I mean, he'd ushered me and the others away into the kitchen as soon as he'd realised what was happening. I'd already seen the look on his face though, so I'd snuck back out into the hall.

I remembered everything about that scene, from what everyone was wearing to the way the Capitol man had sounded, the exact words he'd used when he told my mother that my father was dead, killed by a bomb from district 9.

Nothing had been the same since that day. I'd learnt since then that you had to be hard and strong to get anywhere in life. You had to be in control; otherwise you got hurt, just like I had back then. I knew now that it was best not to trust anyone, to get close to as few people as possible.

Now, I wondered whether to wake Misuto. We'd started training her, to fight, just as my father and later brother had always trained me; just in case one of us was reaped.

Misuto needed training, more than she had to sleep; but she looked so blissfully unaware of the day she had to face soon, the day she'd been dreading all year. I couldn't bare to bring her back to reality; not just yet.

Instead, I grabbed yesterday's trousers and shirt and silently got dressed, deciding to get changed for the reaping later. Then I headed out into the landing.

Going over to my three brother's bedroom, I padded over to my oldest brother, Carter's bed and prodded him lightly. He groaned and slowly sat up; then he saw me.

"What do you want, Caly? It's, like, six in the morning."

"Quarter past five, actually." I smirked, looking at my watch. " _But_ it's reaping day. We wanted to do some last minute training, right?"

Before our dad had died, he'd started teaching me and Carter to fight. I was only a kid then, but I'd always been tougher than my younger brothers and sister, and even back then I'd idolised Carter and just followed him wherever he went. We were still as close as ever, but now he treated me more like his equal than his little sister. I'd always been old for my age; I'd kind of had to be, after everything that had happened.

"Fine." Carter groaned, and reluctantly got up. Five minutes later, he was ready and we headed over to the common where we always practised.

"We'll have to start training Arwin and Arson soon, right?" I said as we walked. "I can't believe they're old enough to be reaped next year. They seem so young still, don't they?"

Carter nodded, thoughtfully. "I know, it doesn't seem fair. I don't think the people of the Capitol value life like we do; I mean, in the rebellion, all they wanted was to win. They didn't care how many people they killed in the process."

"Excuse me?" I stared at him, outraged. "Whose side are you on again? It was district 9 who killed Dad, not the Capitol. Have you forgotten that?"

"Of course I haven't, Caligo! But you were just a kid back then; I understood what was going on. And the people weren't just fighting because they felt like it."

"No?" I demanded, my quick temper flaring up again. "Are you saying everything Dad died for was wrong?"

"Of course not! Look, Caligo, all I'm saying is, things weren't great before the rebellion either. Maybe both sides were in the wrong."

I frowned, unconvinced.

"Look, never mind. Let's go and do some training before it's too late, yeah?" Carter said. "That's all that matters; that if we ever get reaped, we can look after ourselves. That's what mattered to Dad."

I nodded reluctantly and followed him, but inside, I was still fuming. In a year, my little brothers were going to be in just as much danger as all of us. Two more people I cared about, whose fates I couldn't control.

I felt another sudden wave of anger at those rebels ten years ago. It was because of them that we all had to live like this, with our lives being risked every year; their fault that my dad was dead. Why couldn't they have just left everyone be? I mean, sure, things had been bad for some of the outer districts; worse than here in district four. But everyone had been reasonably happy; they'd had enough. They'd just wanted more. And because one district nine rebel had been so selfish, so demanding, the life of my whole family had been ruined. One day, when I was old enough to make a difference in this place, someone was going to pay. I'd make sure of it.

* * *

 **Chain Platinum, 18**

"Wake up, Chain! It's reaping day." My dad called.

"What?" I looked at my watch. "No way, it can't be ten already! Why didn't you wake me up?"

I stood up and jumped out of bed, annoyed. How was I meant to get ready in time now?

"Hurry up, your mom's made pancakes!" Dad called. I rolled my eyes; pancakes, what was that all about?

"Hello, I'm 18! Not a kid anymore!" I called back.

"I know you're not!" Dad said. "But you want to be ready, right? Our district's reaping will shown all over Panem, and you have to stand out."

I quickly showered, then got dressed into my new suit. It was new, and had been expensive, but it was worth it. Like Dad said, I had to stand out. And, looking myself in the mirror, I had to say I looked pretty good. It showed off my build well, and anyone could see how expensive it had been. Perfect. I quickly styled my hair; usually I'd have spent much longer on it, and I cursed my parents for letting me sleep in that long. Still, my hair was perfect anyway, blonde and perfectly cropped, and I easily styled it within about five minutes, then deliberately messed it up in the way that suited me best.

I looked at my reflection again; perfect, now all the girls would notice me. I knew that wasn't exactly what Dad had meant about me standing out, but it would be an added bonus.

"So, how do I look?" I asked, going in to the kitchen. "Amazing as always?" I mean, I already knew the answer, but if my parents wanted to give me even more praise, well, who was I to stop them?

"You look brilliant!" my sister, Satin, sighed, clapping her hands.

"Remember this." My dad said, handing me a tie.

"Do I have to?" I groaned. "I mean, not that I'm an expert in fashion, but where outside of the Capitol does green and yellow go with black, or any colour for that matter?" In reply, my dad gave me a look. I sighed, then took it reluctantly; it didn't really match my outfit, but it was more than just a tie; it had the colours of the new rebellion, the one I was going to be leading, one day.

My parents had been very active in the first rebellion; my mother especially had been responsible for organising a lot of the attacks and plans. Afterwards, they probably would have been executed, if they hadn't been from a district that was so supportive of the Capitol. Districts 1, 2 and 4 had been the ones that were most supportive of the Capitol during that time, so they were the ones that the Capitol had favoured ever since. Even the most ruthless of rebels, such as my parents, had been pardoned; in these districts, only people the Capitol could prove were rebels had been punished.

My parents, of course, had been smarter than most; _they'd_ been able to cover their tracks. The Capitol still suspected them, of course, but after my parents had promised not to rebel again, they'd been let off, given the benefit of doubt; President West was probably scared of them, ready to believe that they'd keep their heads down from now on.

That's what he'd thought, anyway. In reality, of course, my parents had been helping to plan the second rebellion ever since. And that's where I came in.

Ever since I was young, my parents had always planned that one day I would lead the next revolution. When the last rebellion had happened, I'd only been eight years old, but still, my parents had known that I had what it took to be the next leader. Ever since, my father had trained me to fight; thanks to him, I was skilled at pretty much every aspect of fighting and leading; my father always said that I'd learnt fast, that I was a natural.

I was eighteen now, and almost ready to take over my dad's position as leader; it was good that they had me. I bet the Capitol would never have won the last rebellion if I'd have been old enough to fight properly. I was ready now, though, and soon, I'd making President West wish he'd never messed with us.

"Is there going to be another rebellion very soon, then? Will Chain beat the Capitol?" Satin was asking; as usual, my dad ignored her and turned to me.

"Make sure you stand right at the front, son, where everyone can see you," he was saying. "Make sure every camera in Panem gets a good shot of you; it's definitely time they learnt who their new leader is. They're going to love you."

"Why don't you have some pancakes now." he added. "You deserve them."

I grinned and took one, my dad giving me more encouragement as I ate them. After a while, I noticed that Satin was being unusually quiet.

"What's up?" I asked her.

"Nothing," she muttered.

"Yeah, right. More than five minutes have gone by without you getting on anyone's nerves, something's clearly wrong."

She scowled back at me. "I'm fine, okay?"

"Okay, okay!" I shrugged, then went back to talking to my Dad about the rebellion; he was starting to bore me, though, and after a few minuted I zoned out and started thinking about Satin again. Why would she be acting so strangely.

Of course! I suddenly remembered; how could I forgotten? She was twelve this year, it would be her first reaping. I supposed my parents had just been too busy thinking about me to remember.

"Hey, Satin?" I called.

"What?" she was still scowling slightly.

"Look, don't worry about being reaped; there's no way anyone from district 4 would let you enter the games."

"No?"

"Come on, look at the size of you! You've got bloodbath written all over you. The people of the Capitol will want someone who actually has a chance of winning, so I _don't_ think you''ll get reaped without someone volunteering for you."

"Thanks, I think." she was half-frowning, as if unsure whether to be offended or grateful. At least she looked less worried now.

"Look, you'll be fine," I said. "Now come on, or we'll be late for the reaping."

* * *

**Caligo Conner, 14**

Our escort was her usual boring self, twittering on about the past rebellion and all the lessons we'd learnt from it, blah blah. I looked behind me to where Misuto was standing; I'd deliberately stood at the back of the 14 year old's section, while she was at the front of the 13's, so I could reassure her. I sort of wished my brother was nearer; he was much better company, more willing to break the rules and chat. Still, at least this way I could make sure my sister wasn't too nervous.

Finally, after what seemed an age, the escort went to pull out the name of the male tribute. I'd been bored before, wanting this to be over and done with so we could finally go home, but as she plunged her hand in and pulled out a name I got that familiar lurching feeling in my stomach; I'd felt it every year, since I was nine years old. _Not Carter, not Carter..._ I didn't know what I'd do next year when I had three brothers to worry about. Seeing Misuto looking worried, I grabbed her hand; she'd be even worse when it got to the females. I gripped her hand tightly as the escort read out the name.

"Chain Platinum."

I let go of Misuto's hand, relieved; now we only had to get through the female's. To calm myself, I watched as the male tribute strode confidently towards the stage, before turning to smirk at the audience. Show off; I couldn't imagine having that attitude towards the games. I mean, what kind of person was that unfazed about a fight to the death? He was looking towards the older section of the female's now, winking; probably more than one person. Typical career idiot; and he'd probably win too. He was that type.

Now the escort was getting ready for the female tribute, though; clearly, it was time to worry again. I took one look at Misuto's face and realised that this time, holding her arm wasn't going to be enough. I stretched my arm through to her, and she wrapped it round her waist, pulling me as close to her as she could. The escort finally took out another slip, and read out the name.

"Caligo Conner."

My sister's face told me what had happened before I even registered it. I'd never known that could happen; that the colour could actually drain from someone's face like that. But her face was hauntingly white, her eyes wide open with horror as she clung to me; as if holding on was the only thing that could keep me safe, close to her. I knew better, though. This time, I had to be strong.

Before I could think, I tugged my arm away, hard, and walked forward towards the stage, my face set, looking ahead. Leaving her, and my whole life, behind.

* * *

 **Chain Platinum, 18**

Great; just great. My district partner was some fourteen year old Capitol supporter. She'd better not be completely useless. She had a set, angry look in her eyes though; I was almost taken aback. She was pretty, though; her waist-length black hair, green eyes and pale skin made her stand out, and fitted well with the silver dress she wore. She'd certainly be popular with sponsors. Still, I wasn't sure whether she had what it took to be a Career.

I couldn't believe I'd been reaped; this was perfect. What better way to attract attention than to win the Hunger Games? I couldn't believe I hadn't volunteered before. I tried to make sure everyone got a good look at me as I shook Caligo's hand, then regretted it as she gripped my hand so tightly that it made me wince, scowling at me. I'd have to consider whether she could be an ally or not.

* * *

 **Caligo Connor**

My younger siblings came in to visit me first; Misuto running in, sobbing, followed by Arwin and Arson.

"You have to win," Misuto cried. "You have to come back.

"I'll try," I said. "I really will; don't worry. I'll do everything I can to come back to you."

"It's only a year now, though, isn't it?" Arwin looked at me anxiously. "Next year, me and Arson could die, too."

"No, no. You'll be fine, just you wait." I whispered. "The Capitol like us, remember? They won't let me die. And it's the bad guys that will be picked, not you."

"Like the ones that killed Dad?" he breathed. I nodded.

"Exactly. And I'll kill them horribly and serve them right, and you can all watch it on TV. It's all going to be okay, see?"

He nodded, slowly.

"Don't worry," I said. "I'm coming home; I just have to make those people pay first."

My next visitors, of course, were my mum and eldest brother. Mum was in pieces.

"I can't believe this has happened!" she cried. "First your dad, now you... someone's got it in for us."

"Yeah, and I know who," I muttered. "But I'll come back, just you wait. You won't lose me like you lost Dad."

Then I turned to Carter; he was the one I was closest to in the family, and saying goodbye to him would be hardest of all.

"Caligo, remember what Dad taught us," he said to me. "You're young, but you're tough... you could win."

"I'll try; I really will, you know that."

"And... don't do anything stupid, like going after the outer district tributes just for the sake of it? I know what you're like, and you've got reason to hate them, but don't put yourself at risk over something stupid."

"Of course I won't!" I lied. "Seriously, Carter, what do you take me for?"

He didn't look convinced, but he nodded.

* * *

 **Chain Platinum**

My family all came to visit at once. My parents were grinning, though Satin looked worried.

"This is brilliant!" my dad cheered, patting me on the back.

"I know!" I grinned. "Why didn't I volunteer before? Winning the Games is the perfect way to get back at the Capitol."

"You're going to be such a great victor!" Dad said. "I can't believe it; the rebellion, everything, it's all finally happening. And it's all thanks to our amazing son! You're going to rule Panem before you know it."

"Just make sure you don't blab to the Capitol about our plan," mum told me. "One wrong move could mess everything up; we're relying on you. It's a big responsibility, but I know you'll do well."

"Of course I will, I was born for this. In two week's time, I'll be the victor and soon after that, the Capitol will be finished," I said.

"Well said," my dad grinned at me again. I noticed that Satin was still looking upset, though.

"You will win, won't you?" she asked, when I looked at her. Dad laughed.

"Of course he will, you silly girl. Now be quiet." He said, turning back to me.

"Look, Satin, I'll come back," I said quietly. "Don't you worry about me. And when I'm done, every member of the Capitol will regret everything they've ever done to us."

* * *

 **Caligo Connor, 14**

Well, my district partner looked like a total idiot. He'd win sponsors, of course, be popular to all the girls; I'd seen the way he'd waved at the crowd, with that stupid grin on his face. Well, he did not fool me. I'd put up with him if that's what it took to win, but I knew one thing; when the Career alliance finally ended, he'd be the first one I killed in his sleep. One thing was good, though; now, I could finally get back at the people who'd killed Dad. I didn't care who the district 9 tributes were; no matter what, I had to be the one to kill them. The more brutally the better; that way every person in district 9 would be watching as I tortured them, and know why. And finally, they would pay.


End file.
